


Retrograde

by Ptolemia



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and so dO THEY, because i do lmao, do u ever cry because of how much rhys n vaughn love each other, i mean mostly fluff like theres crying but its fine, they're just beING EMOTIONAL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:50:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ptolemia/pseuds/Ptolemia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys didn't react strongly enough to finding out that Vaughn was alive so I've written fic and made both of them cry YOU'RE WELCOME :*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retrograde

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME TO MOOD WHIPLASH HELL
> 
> this fic is bad but i tried and thats what counts
> 
> this is set during ep 5 but im gonna write some post-game fic because i have a LOT of ideas so,,, stay tuned  
> there might?? be a part 2 to this but no promises no promises  
> i think the real question is how long can i chicken out of writing smut until i cave..... who knows, who knows...............
> 
> fun fact for the day: i should be at a party rn but instead i wrote this because at this point gayperion matters more to me than my actual friends lmao
> 
> funner fact: if ur my friend and ur reading this then u just go ahead and forget i said that,,, 
> 
> the funnest fact of all, unrelated to the first two facts: retrograde is an excellent song and that is where i got the title

It doesn't hit Rhys right away.

 

It doesn't hit him when he first sees Vaughn, suntanned and grinning, and scoops him up into what has got to be a contender for the best hug ever. They're both smiling and laughing and Vaughn's talking a mile a minute and Rhys is trying really hard not to openly gawp at his ass as he crawls over the rubble, leading the way to his new home.

 

It doesn't hit him later that evening, when they're all spread out around a precarious-looking campfire that some of the old accounting department have set up in the rubble, and Rhys finally musters up the courage to sling his arm over Vaughn's shoulders and plant a gentle kiss on the top of his head. Vaughn practically purrs, leaning up against him with a happy little sigh as they both watch the others laughing and cooking skag kebabs over the flames. Fiona digs out an old and very shabby looking fiddle from the dusty cupboard at the back of the caravan, and strikes up a surprisingly tuneful melody. Soon people are dancing and whirling around the fire, with varying degrees of actual talent – Athena proves rather good, once Janey's persuaded her to give it a go, Gortys is teaching Yvette and Loader Bot and for some reason also Cassius some kind of line dance, and Sasha and August are both genuinely awful and keep stepping on each others toes. Neither of them seems to mind much, though.

 

It doesn't hit him when Vaughn slips a hand into his and glances up at him with a little smirk, eyes bright. “You want to ditch the party, dude?” he whispers.

Rhys slides his free hand around Vaughn's waist and tugs him closer. “Why, you got something better to do?”

Vaughn rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I mean, obviously I'm planning to get laid, but I'm pretty sure that literally anything would beat standing around in the freezing cold and the dark and not being able to get any closer to the fire for fear of being trampled by August and Sasha.”

“I... you have a point.”

“I do! I have a great point, actually.” Vaughn beams, and holds out his hand. “So, you coming?”

“I mean,” says Rhys, taking his hand with a little smirk, “hopefully at some point this evening, right?”

Vaughn groans. “Oh my god, you – really?”

“Come on, that was pretty funny.”

“It was awful. You're awful.”

“Says the guy dragging me off to his bedroom to ravish me.”

“I'm not dragging you anywhere, dumbass you're – you're literally walking ahead of me. Really fast. And also kinda in the wrong direction – we need to head left, bro.”

“Oh, right, I... yeah.”

“And who even says ravish any more? You watch too many period dramas.”

Rhys snickers, steadily leaning more and more of his weight on Vaughn's side. “Oooh, scary bandit leader, are you going to,” he leans so far that Vaughn has to grab his arm to stop him toppling over, “ravish me?”

Vaughn sighs, “I'm not going to- oh, forget it. You know what? Fine.” He shifts his hold on Rhys slightly, and then before Rhys really knows what's happening Vaughn is... carrying him. Bridal style. “Are you happy now?” he grumbles.

Rhys makes a startled wheezing noise. “Oh, ok, wow, so, I keep forgetting how weirdly strong you are.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, you are. Wow. Ha. Really strong. Are you-”

“I'm dragging you off to my bedroom to ravish you,” Vaughn deadpans, with a disapproving little sniff at the end which definitely says 'disgruntled accountant' a lot more than 'fearsome bandit'. Then he glances down at Rhys with the vaguest hint of a smirk. “This doing something for you?”

“It... yeah, pretty much.”

Vaughn laughs. “You're so predictable.”

“Predictably amazing?”

“Predictably ridiculous.”

And because this is true – truer than Rhys would maybe like to admit – it takes them nearly fifteen minutes to make what should be a five minute walk because he unbalances himself trying to kiss Vaughn while he's being carried, and then pouts and drags his heels when Vaughn tells him he'll just have to walk the last couple of minutes if he can't behave. And then, also fairly predictably, the pair of them end up doing a lot more making out like overexcited idiots than actual _walking_.

 

And it still hasn't hit Rhys, the exact gravity of everything that's occurred in the past months. It's after they stumble into the bedroom and Vaughn slams the door shut that it happens – maybe it's being alone, properly alone, that does it, or maybe it's just that his brain has finally had time to catch up with the events of the day.

Either way, Vaughn tugs Rhys in for another kiss, and mutters,“I missed you.”

And Rhys is grinning into the kiss, and letting Vaughn back him up against the wall, and he's about to reply that he missed Vaughn too, of course he did, a kind of crazy amount, especially since he'd thought-

 

And  _that's_ when it hits him. He thought Vaughn was  _dead_ . Fuck. He can't breathe, for a second – it's like he's forgotten how, almost; his whole body just freezes up.

Vaughn notices immediately, of course, and reaches a hand up to touch Rhys' cheek. “Rhys? What's wrong?”

“I thought,” Rhys mumbles, and it sounds like somebody else is saying it, a million miles away, because he is zoning the _fuck_ out right now, “I thought you were... I thought you were dead.”

“Rhys...”

“I thought you-” Rhys stumbles over the words, lip trembling.

“Bro, hey, it's fine-”

“I thought-”

“Shh, it's alright now, I promise-”

“I... oh god, I thought-”

“Rhys, c'mere, it's fine, don't – dude, deep breaths, yeah?” Vaughn strokes Rhys' hair, stretching up on tip-toes to gently rest their foreheads together. 

Rhys drops his head onto Vaughn's shoulder and whines into his neck, trying to tug him closer as if the guy wasn't already pretty much riding his thigh. Some vague part of Rhys' brain registers the fact that under other circumstances this much body contact with mostly-shirtless Vaughn would actually be pretty hot, but right now he's too full of fear to have space for any other emotions. Because Vaughn is here, and safe, and well, and happy, and right in front of him – and tomorrow it could all go away, and then Rhys would be left exactly how he was before. They stay like that, for a while, Rhys clinging on to Vaughn as though he's drowning, and Vaughn gently stroking his back and murmuring gentle encouragements until his breathing begins to slow a little.

 

“Rhys,” says Vaughn, after a few minutes, “Rhys, hey, c'mon, look at me.”

“Vaughn, I-”

“Hey, come on, listen. It's going to be alright. I promise. Now, ok, you thought I was dead, and I... I also... I...” he clears his throat, sounding more than a little choked up, “Well, anyway, there was a mutual suspicion of, uh... not-aliveness. Which was a terrible terrible time and I do not want to think about it ever again. But I am thinking about it. Right now. Which... which is fine, because I want to be supportive and make you not cry which – dude, c'mon, if you start with the crying you'll set me off and I don't want to... I mean, hey, it could be worse, right? I mean, one of us could be on fire. Or. Or something.” He hesitates for a moment, then sighs. “I'm... kind of not very good at the whole 'comforting' thing. Sorry.”

Rhys lets out a damp little snort of laughter. “You're the worst.”

“Hey, I'm doing my best,” grumbles Vaughn. He sighs, tilting his head up to kiss Rhys very gently on the corner of the mouth. “But seriously dude I wish- I mean, I want to cheer you up but I'm not, well, I'm not exactly having the best time of it myself.”

Rhys sniffles quietly, stroking Vaughn's lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “No, hey, it was bad for both of us. Can't have been easy being in charge of everyone, either. I mean, I barely managed looking after myself, let alone half of frigging Helios like some kind of... uh... hero guy. Um. It's impressive, that's what I'm saying.”

“Yeah, well, I guess maybe keeping busy made things easier but I... you know, the guys here, they _worship_ you, and I couldn't go five minutes some days without somebody asking me whether you'd have approved of the latest improvement plans for the camp, or how tall you were, exactly, or what product you used in your hair or... urgh. And they just kept asking! I mean, Yvette took on some of it but y'know, she's your friend too and she just felt so crappy about everything that happened and I couldn't expect her to do everything for me and I just- you know, when I actually think about it, it was an even worse time than I realised! It was awful, Rhys! People kept asking me questions about you in the past tense! I just.” He shakes his head and clenches his jaw. “Actually, I changed my mind. I don't want to talk about this,” he mutters. A muscle in his cheek twitches.

 

Rhys looks down at Vaughn, who is avoiding his gaze. His eyes look suspiciously damp. “Hey, bro,” says Rhys, “I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't-”

Vaughn exhales shakily. “No, it's fine. It's fine. I just... I missed you, bro.”

“Yeah. I missed you too. I thought-”

“I thought you weren't coming back.”

“Yeah,” breathes Rhys, as Vaughn pulls him in for a kiss. “I'm here now,” he says, lips still brushing up against Vaughn's, “I'm here, I promise I-” 

“I missed you so _much_.”

Rhys, who is normally so good with words, finds himself totally lost for them – not for the first time today. Instead he pulls Vaughn closer and deepens the kiss, which is about the best he can do to communicate right now, anyway. He is possibly, maybe - in the coolest and most suave way possible – crying a bit. A lot. Alright, so, maybe he's kissing Vaughn because if he opens his mouth to talk he's just going to start wailing. 

Vaughn doesn't seem to mind. Vaughn is possibly also crying a little bit.

Maybe they're both grown-ass men who are crying actually kind of a lot, and stumbling across the room, bleary-eyed and totally unwilling to let go of each other, until Rhys trips over onto the bed and Vaughn lands on top of him with a surprised squeak.

 

They look at each other for a long moment, and then Vaughn grins weakly. “You're a mess, dude.”

Rhys scrubs furiously at his eyes. “I'm not- I mean... so are you.”

“Yeah, that's fair,” says Vaughn, curling up around Rhys with a contented little sigh. “ _We're_ a mess.”

Rhys laughs, a little shaky but more genuinely than he has in... well, in months, actually. “Aww. Romantic.”

“Well, y'know, I feel like dragging a guy back to your room to cry on him really says something about how much you care, right?”

Rhys kisses the top of his head. “I missed you.”

“You might have mentioned that.”

“'m never letting go of you again, you know that?”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. You're gonna be stuck on this bed forever.”

“Well,” says Vaughn, with a happy little sigh, “I can think of worse fates.”

 

 


End file.
